We celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary this past Monday on the 3rd, celebrate meaning did nothing except yell, “HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!” on my way out the door to work. Gabriella would be staying home from work having contracted a cold… or syphilis. It’s hard to say without the benefit of an official diagnosis. Alls I know is that she hadn’t been feeling well and decided to recuperate at home.
During the few hours spent with the small children in my preschool class, her cold … or syphilis…hatched from incubation, and in a short period of time, I felt like ass. Somewhere between the gluing and the painting and the singing, I got sick. My eye seared beneath my bloated lids. My nasal passages pulled a Chris Christie BridgeGate and blocked the air from finding open passage to punish me for not taking better care of myself. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.
“Gabriella?!?” I yelled upstairs when I got home from work. A pot of chicken soup simmered on the stovetop. Even when she’s sick, she cooks. I would enjoy the fruits of her labor – or the stock of her broth. Does that sound dirty? Stock of her broth? Just me?
She made her way downstairs, her hair wet from a recent shower dressed in comfy sweats. “I just want to thank you for giving me your cold for our anniversary,” I said. “Here,” she replied. “I got you some sheets of 2-ply tissue, too,” handing me the tissue from her hand. “Aw, that’s so thoughtful of you.” “I made you soup,” she added. “No,” I said, “you made YOU soup. But, I’m really happy that you did.”
We held each other only briefly having soup to eat and noses to blow.
We’ve been wed for 13 years. Lucky #13. Not feeling particularly lucky this year. Lucky for the life we’ve designed together, sure. Lucky to have each other, absolutely. But as we held each other, we both remembered more celebratory years. We remembered extravagant dinners and fantastic trips. We remembered sending lavish flower arrangements to each other’s offices, carefully designed with favorite flowers.
It’s not about the things or the money spent but the time we took to plan and the time we took to honor each other and this relationship of ours. Our anniversary was sacred.
The excuses are endless. Funds are low. Kids are our priority. The snow. There has been no respite from the bitter cold and snow this winter. We also suffer from a bit of wedding fatigue. It was only a few months ago that we wed in New Jersey, the 4th ceremony celebrating our union. Genug already, as my people say. That’s enough already to those Yiddishly challenged.
We held each other and pinky promised a do-over. We understand how important it is to make time for ourselves and to nurture this relationship of ours. But man, we’re tired. And, if anyone’s going to Costco, we could use 683 boxes of tissue.
Happy Anniversary to my lady-friend, partner, baby-mommy and wife. I love you in sickness and in health, but I sure do prefer the healthy parts.